Wednesday, August 14, 2013

AGAINST ME! – Bastards Of Young

God, what a mess, on the ladder of successWhere you take one step and miss the whole first rungDreams unfulfilled, graduate unskilledIt beats pickin’ cotton and waitin’ to be forgotten

We are the sons of no one, bastards of youngWe are the sons of no one, bastards of youngThe daughters and the sons

Clean your baby womb, trash that baby boomElvis in the ground, there’ll ain’t no beer tonightIncome tax deduction, what a hell of a functionIt beats pickin’ cotton and waitin’ to be forgotten

We are the sons of no one, bastards of youngWe are the sons of no one, bastards of youngThe daughters and the sons

Unwillingness to claim us, ya got no word (war? no one?) to name us

The ones who love us best are the ones we’ll lay to restAnd visit their graves on holidays at bestThe ones who love us least are the ones we’ll die to pleaseIf it’s any consolation, I don’t begin to understand them

We are the sons of no one, bastards of youngWe are the sons of no one, bastards of youngThe daughters and the sons